Starvation
by dreamersrequiem
Summary: When a young man appears at Paige Walsh's door to question her on her sister's death, she starts to feel something. Is it lust, or maybe something more?
1. Part One

_**  
**__There's a hollow, empty feeling in my stomach, my head feels dizzy and I can not concentrate. Every task seems too difficult. On top of that, what is the point? It wouldn't be worth it, not now anyway. So I ignore everything else and grab my bag, swiping my items into it I sling it over my shoulder and leave. They pretend to understand, they act like they do._

_But they don't know the real meaning for my restlessness, they don't know why I can not stand to be around them. It is not because of what happened. As horrible and heart-breaking as that was for me....she was my sister, he my brother-in-law and I still do not know what happened, not really, I can't understand it and that's...that's where you come in._

_Because some how I think you can help, for some reason I feel you, who appeared in my life so suddenly, without warning, on my doorstep with him, both of you asking questions, know more than I do. Know more than anyone else in this stupid town._

_Something happened to me when we met, and I wonder if you maybe felt it too. Most likely not. I'm just another person, right? To grill and question and draw information from. You're not a cop, that much I know. Detective. As if. I've never met a pair of detectives who look more like brothers; and I've never met cops who drive around in an Impala either._

_What happened to my sister, 'Detective'? What created that horrible, vomit inducting scene? _

_Why did I feel frozen outside the door, what made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up?_

_You, I believe, have the answer; the only answer. You hold the truth and I need to find you, talk to you._

_In the office, they gaze at me with pitying eyes, thinking it is grief for my sister that causes me to rush out, my head bowed. It is not this grief, it is the hollow, empty feeling when I am away from you.  
_

* * *

I found myself leaning against the bar, slowly smoking a cigarette before my shift started. Those at the office had sympathy for me, excused my no-show days and early absences. They would for a little while longer. But here, here my boss and friend would not hold with me having more than a week off.

"You need to keep your head up kid," he told me on my first day back "you need to stay in the game. I can't let you wallow in grief at home."

I preferred being at the bar to the office anyway. The guys here didn't gaze at me with pity, they didn't ask "how are you" with that strange head tilt. No, they just laughed and carried on as normal, barking orders at me if I was being too slow, criticising me if I wasn't paying attention.

I pushed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and made my way to the other side of the bar. Loping my hair back and a bobble through my brown strands, I approached my first customer of the night.

* * *

A couple of hours later and I move quickly up and down the bar, taking drink orders and passing the glasses to them within seconds. Money exchanges hands, my fingers move skilfully in and out of the till even as I take the next order. The bar tonight is busy, just how I like it at the moment, distracting with so many people around.

You ever see the movie Coyote Ugly?

My job is nothing like that. We don't have girls dancing on the bar, we don't have a stupid hose every time someone asks for water. If anything, we encourage people to drink it – if they need to.

"Next." I lifted my head, and found myself staring straight into those eyes that had been haunting my mind for the last three days. As he asked for two beers, I stumbled over my words before composing myself and nodding, fixing a smile to my face before I whirled around and went to the fridge that stored the bottles.

_And that's another thing. What kind of detective wears a beat-up leather jacket?_

_As I lean down for the beers that feeling returns; it feels like something is clutching at my stomach. I feel hungry and full at the same time. The first time I felt it was when I laid eyes on you, and it hasn't gone away since. Now it's back in full force; it had been pushed away as the bar got busier, but as our eyes locked it came back._

I placed the bottles on the top of the bar, forcing myself to smile happily at him despite the fact that I could feel my cheeks burning. I gave him the price, and waited for the money. Our fingers brushed and a jolt of electricity rushed through my hand, up my arm and down my spine. He looked up, eyes narrowed and staring intently at me.

"Paige, right?"

"Uh huh." I slipped my hand in the till, withdrawing his change. "Nice to see you again, Detective..."

"Walker."

"Of course." How could I forget? Though I had a feeling it wasn't his real name. "How's the case going?"

He frowned at this, running a hand through his hair. "We'll have some answers for you soon, Miss Walsh."

_A buzz of happiness flows through me. I've never liked my name more than when you say it. It sounds stupid, strange, but its true.  
_

"Paige, please. Just Paige."

"Of course." He smiled then, and just then, if possible, he became even more handsome. The broody, thoughtful look suited him, but so did the happy go lucky smile he had on now.

"Dean, we've got a lead."

Both of us turned to the tall man who had pushed his way through the crowd. He gripped Detective Walker's arm, his eyes wide.

"Detective James." I nodded at the man, who glanced at me and frowned. I knew he was trying to place me, to remember who I was.

"Paige Walsh. Susie's sister."

"Of course." He nodded, turned back to his partner. "Dean, I need to talk to you."

"Paige! Come on!" I glanced over to see Danny staring hard at me, gesturing to the waiting crowd.

"I'd...better get back to work." I muttered lamely, glancing once more at Dean as Detective James pulled him backwards.

"Me too. See you around Paige."

And like that I was back taking orders, now unable to ignore that feeling in my stomach.

* * *

_I've had boyfriends before, I've been on dates and had that nervous butterfly feeling that fills you, that shakes you and makes you bite your lips, lick your teeth, the feeling that brings out all those nervous ticks._

_But I've never felt like this._

_I've never wanted to be with someone this much._

_I'd settle even just for a platonic friendship, just to be around you._

_What is it about you, Dean Walker, that makes me feel like this?_

* * *

I felt like I should eat, felt like I needed to cook something, anything to rid myself of the hollowness I felt. Maybe that was all it was, hunger. I had hardly eaten since my sister's gruesome death, had been unable to force myself to cook or eat at the bar.

Too many times I had gone through periods of not feeling like eating. Mostly they were related to break-ups and bad news. But Susie had always known when I would be feeling like this, and she'd be round my small flat, shopping in her hands. She'd push past me and take over my kitchen, cook me up something delicious. She was a great cook, especially when it came to my favourite. I had never been able to resist her chicken dinners.

It had been the reason, I guess, I had found them. Susie had called me at work, at the office, asking if I was working that night. When I'd said no, she'd invited me around for dinner. "I've got some amazing news for you, little sister."

Knowing Susie, this news could be anything. From the knowledge that her husband's cute friend had recently become single, to having three tickets to Europe in the summer.

Whatever it had been, I was excited as I left the office and strolled towards their small two-storey house. As soon as I reached the driveway though, I knew something was wrong. The house was in total darkness, which was very unlike Susie and her husband. They liked the make the house as welcoming as possible.

* * *

_"Please Miss Walsh, we need as much information as possible."_

_"Of course. And I'm trying to remember."  
_

_I stared at the floor, refusing to look at you or him. I could tell he was the softer one, the tone of his voice was one intended to be soothing, kind. Both of you lingered in the living room, standing around and casting glances at each other. When I looked up you had wondered over to the shelf, reaching out and fingering a frame. _

_"Is that your sister, Miss Walsh?" You had asked, staring hard at the photo of me and Susie, taken when we were teenagers, getting ready for a night out._

_"Yes. That's Susie. And please, I prefer Paige."_

_"Paige..." I heard the sigh from you, before you turned and looked around the rest of the room. I don't think you looked at me, not properly. But for some reason I could not take my eyes off you, I could not help but watch you as you moved around, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. _

_"I stopped in the driveway. The day was sunny. But outside the door I felt...I felt cold. Something made me stop. Like I knew something was wrong."_

_"How could you have known that?" The words slipped out and I knew they had because you looked surprised at yourself, you turned quickly away. _

_"Detective..." His voice was low, hissing – a warning. He was younger, that much I could tell. A year or so younger than me, I guessed, but I knew he was pulling rank, so to speak. He had looked at me. "I'm sorry for his behaviour, Miss Walsh. What happened then?"  
__

* * *

_

It had been quiet, silent when I reached forward and rang the bell. The sound echoed through the whole house, and for some reason, despite the normality of it I had shuddered. I had turned the handle, expecting to find it locked.

Coldness ran down my spine as the door swung open at my touch. Pushing myself forward I had gone in, stepping into the house. It was freezing – Susie's husband, the sweet guy, couldn't stand the cold.

"Susie?" My voice sounded too loud in the quiet, and I found myself moving in the dark, too scared to turn the lights on. I yelled her name again as I went into their living room, their kitchen, their den. Nothing. A paperback book lay face down on the kitchen table, pots of vegetables sat uncooked on the hob.

Suddenly, panic flooded my body and I fled up the stairs.

* * *

_Something bad had happened that day, Detective Walker. I'd known it, I think, as soon as I woke up after falling asleep after work. I'd felt not too great, hungry and hollow (though not like I do away from you) before sleeping. But after? I woke up fine, the hollow feeling gone. Though now something nagged at the back of my mind as I got ready to see my sister. She was lovely, like you would never believe. So kind and full of life. She'd always looked after me. I'd fallen over a lot as a kid, a clumsy child, and she was always there to pick me up and make me feel better._

_Have you got any siblings? _

_I still doubt you are a real detective, still maybe think there is something lurking beneath your calm surface. And if that is true, is James your brother?_

_Do you look after him like my sister looked after me?_

_I hope so, because we had a good bond, my sister and I. I always felt pity for those only-children, those kids with no siblings. Now that bond is gone, ripped away from me and it hurts, it hurts so much but not as much as this feeling, this hungry feeling that makes my head pulse and my whole body ache._


	2. Part Two

A ring from the doorbell, and slowly I lift myself from the sofa, drawn out of my memories of what I had seen that night. My family, my sister and her husband, torn apart and their body parts scattered around the master bedroom.

Dean Walker and his partner stood on the doorstep, both shifting uncomfortably in their suits. Admittedly, they had both looked much more comfortable and better at the bar, in normal clothes.

"Miss Walsh, we need to ask you some more questions, I'm afraid." James' eyes were wide with concern and kindness, and without a word I stepped back and let them in.

"Coffee?" I offered, glancing at them as they looked each other.

"No, thanks." Walker muttered, before letting out a deep sigh. He ran a hand through his mop of dark blond hair and fixed his gaze on mine. "How well did you know Daniel Scatter?"

"Danny?" I found my fingers clutching the edge of the sofa. "Why?"

"You'd better sit down." James gestured to the sofa, and slowly I edged onto it, staring hard at them.

"What's happened to Danny?" I asked, focusing my gaze on Dean.

"We...we found his body this morning."

I felt like the floor had dropped away from me, a wrenching grief filled my stomach and I buried my head in my hands, elbows digging into my knees and fixing my eyes on the floor, allowing the sobs to rock my body.

I felt a strong arm around my shoulders, and suddenly my face was hidden in a clean jacket, my tears soaking Dean's shirt.

Minutes later – though it felt like an hour – I pulled away and angrily staggered to my feet. Roughly I wiped away my tears and stared hard at the pair, my body still shaking as I struggled to withhold my sobs. "It was like Susie, wasn't it?"

Their silence was all the answer I needed.

* * *

_Danny had been my high school sweetheart, is that what you wanted to know? He had been my first proper boyfriend, and we had fun. Movies, diners, all that kind of cheesy date stuff. Fooling around in his bedroom when his parents were away._

_It ended between us when I fell pregnant, at the sweet age of 17. He'd wanted me to keep the child, said we'd make it work between us. He'd get a job, work hard. But of course I had my whole future ahead of me. I didn't want to be tied down. _

_College and a career, that's what I wanted then._

_So I got an abortion, and the arguments and fights started. My parents were shocked when we split up – they practically saw Danny as a son. I went off to college, dropped out when my parents died in a car crash. Danny and Susie were there for me when that happened, though by then Danny was seeing someone else. I didn't mind, I was glad he'd moved on and happy to see him with her. He was happy, and those feelings from when we were teenagers were gone._

_He helped me get the job at the bar, helped me through it._

_He was there for me when Susie died._

_And now you're telling me he's gone?_

_The two most important people in the world to me, and they're gone._

_Did you know he had a son, Dean? _

_I wonder how she's coping, now looking after the two year old toddler. Is she now explaining to him that daddy won't be coming back, that he's gone forever?  
_

_

* * *

  
_Again that feeling as I crawled into bed that night, that hungry, hollow feeling. I needed to eat, but I'd already had a full dinner barely two hours ago. Danny's death still burned in my mind, the sight of his body ripped, torn like my sister's covered my sight as I closed my eyes.

Dean....I needed to see Dean.

That much I knew.

Not now though, now I needed to sleep, needed to force myself to push away thoughts of death and pain and give in to the weary ache that had settled over my body.

* * *

**Dean Winchester...stupid boy. Stupid hunter. Unable to see what was right in front of you.**

**Even your brother did not realise. Your brother did not link them together. But it is not Sam I want. It's you.**

**The smell was almost overpowering when you held her, your smell, the fragrance of sweat and beer mixed with something else, something deeper that cried out. Being near you was almost enough, being away from you was hell; I couldn't even taste your aura. It has grown too much for me – I dragged myself to the two places that held the strongest feeling deep within her.**

**The death of her sister was to draw you here and satisfy the hunger until you arrived. The death of her friend was because I knew it was taking too long, because I could barely last until I managed to corner you.**

**Now I stand, having forced her out of her home, outside the motel where you are staying. I can see the light on, can see your brother as he moves around and inside her heart is beating, thumping, but nothing can overpower this. **

**I am so very hungry, Dean Winchester. Starving in fact. I am slowly destroying her from the inside in my struggle to get to you. But you can never refuse a pretty face.**

**He's leaving Dean, he's going to leave you alone.**

**I watch as he opens the door and steps into the night. I think I know where he is going, though he will not tell you. He said he was going to Danny's house, didn't he? But he's going to her place, her flat, he's going to look around for clues there.**

**I almost bound across the parking lot, reaching the door.**

**The hunger's growing Dean. It's driving me forward as I knock on the door...**

**Pain...**

**So much pain...**

**What's going on? As you open the door I can feel her fighting, feel myself fading.**

**I'm so close Dean, I can smell you, almost taste you...  
**

**

* * *

**

_What am I doing here Dean? How did I get here?_

_My body aches, I feel tired and hungry and confused. I didn't even know where you were staying, so how have I stumbled upon this motel, upon your door?_

_You look just as confused as I do as you stare at me._

"_Paige?"  
_

_What can I say? I was sleepwalking? Maybe it's the truth but it sounds stupid, strange, even to me. _

"_I...needed to talk to you?" Even I can hear the question in my voice, testing the words as they leave my mouth._

"_Of course." _

_You step backwards and I find myself walking forward slowly, stiffly, as if I really had just woken up._

_Passing by a mirror I catch myself in the reflection and feel like cursing myself for appearing like this – dishevelled with bloodshot eyes. Do you think I'm crazy Dean? Because I'm starting to feel like I am._

_Thinking of something to say, I quickly mutter "have you found anything?"_

"_Maybe. Sam's gone to check."_

"_Sam?"  
_

"_My bro...partner. Detective James."  
_

"_Of course."  
_

_I caught the start, that half-a-word. Your brother? So I was right then Dean, was I? Your gruff voice, asking if I want a drink, brings me out of my thoughts._

"_Why are you really here Paige?"_

_And here I tell the truth. Here I stare at you with wide, scared eyes, biting my bottom lip. "I don't know."_

* * *

**Her strength wavers, moves up and down and finally I get back through. You can sense the change as she finishes her sentence, you see her back straighten and her head lift up. But you don't look where you should, you don't study her eyes and your usual guard, suspicion has gone.**

**You think you have nothing to fear from this small town girl, don't you Dean?**

**Your mistake.**

**As you turn your back I – she – rise, and move forward, towards you and the small kitchenette. The smell grows stronger, and the pair of us combine, the feelings fighting for power. Her desire, her lust, mixes with my hunger. I can't help but grin to myself as my hands reach out and rest on your shoulders.**

**"Dean Winchester..."**

"Bitch."

He elbows Paige, sending her reeling backwards until she falls on the floor, sprawled on her back and staring up at him with deep black eyes. Fear sparks in them as he withdraws a gun, pointing it directly at her forehead. He growls, deep in his throat, as the door opens and in steps Sam, his own gun directed at the girl on the floor.

"What the..."

"Told you." Sam mutters, stepping further into the room and looking at Paige, clicking his tongue.

"Think we hadn't worked you out?"

* * *

**So you did know...  
**

**Or have you just realised?**

**Staring at the gun I have not seen it, and it's only when Sam looks upwards that I follow his gaze.**

**"You bastards." I hiss, looking at the white markings up there. I should have known, should have looked. After all, isn't this how you trapped my brothers and sisters?**

**I go for an old trick. I sob and scream.**

**"Please just let me go. I won't hurt you Dean, I promise."  
**

**"Shut up." The anger and hatred in your voice makes me wince – me, or her? We're locked together now, and I can feel her struggling to come to the surface. **

**It starts, and I writhe and scream in pain. **

**Then, suddenly, a release; the pain is gone, as is the hunger.**

**Oh well, it'll come back. I'm sure it will. Starved for too long and I'll fight my way out, I'll struggle to the surface and then, then I'll get my fill.**

**

* * *

**

_I gasp as if drawing breath after being underwater, and there you are at my side, lifting me up. My knees are shaking and my body hurts, and I look at Sam as he runs a hand through his head. Panic floods me when I see the gun, and I notice you're carrying one too._

_Leaping backwards I stare wildly around the room._

"_It's Ok." Sam holds his hands up, placing the gun down._

"_What happened?" My eyes wonder to the ceiling and I swear, see you give me a wry grin and realise that I feel....normal. My heart rate is normal and my knees are regaining feeling. "It's gone." _

"_What's gone?" You ask, and I shake my head._

_The desire, the lust, the love...whatever it was, the hollow feeling, the hunger and everything? The feeling that I'm starving because I'm not with you?_

_That's gone._

"_Nothing." I mutter, and see you relax, casting a strange glance at your brother._

_I laugh out loud and simply grin at your confused expression._

* * *

A/N: This really did start out as fluffy romance, but then something happened with my characters and suddenly it was how you see it here.


End file.
